I Don't Know You Doctor Who Story
by karendelight
Summary: The Doctor tries to reunite with a companion who has no memory of him or their adventures together, and they try to find out where they went and how to get them back. This is a new companion, but not a new Doctor. It can be any Doctor you wish to imagine.
1. Chapter 1

The pizza parlor is around the corner. His pace is quick and determined. He'll walk in and he'll see her, they'll reunite, and everything will fall back into place. Everything will go back to normal. Just like how it was before, back when everything was perfect.

He stands in front of the door. He stops walking and faces the glass structure. Uncertainty hangs in the air. His plans could go awry, and he could destroy the lives of everyone in the restaurant, everyone in the city, and everyone on the planet. Everything could go wrong. Everything could go very, very wrong. He takes a deep breath. He has a very important decision to make, a very life-changing decision.

She stands behind the counter, right next to the cash register. Her golden blonde hair is in an untidy ponytail and she smiles while waiting for a customer. He walks over to the counter and stands right in front of her. He is so hopeful and yet so doubtful at the same time. They're so close, they are merely inches away. So close that he could just reach out and embrace her.

"Hello, how may I help you?" she asks, like he was just another person ordering pizza. He should be more than just a "hello" for her. His words catch in his throat.

His eyes scan her body for signs of recognition. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, 'what do you mean'? I need to take your order. Personal pizzas are only four dollars today."

"So, you mean to say, that you don't have a clue of who I am?"

She shakes her head. "No. Should I?"

He pauses and rakes his hands through his hair. She should know him. They've spent years together, they've traveled farther than the edge of imagination. They've witnessed history unfold before their very eyes, yet she can't remember a thing.

He should just walk away, and he knows this. Tempering with her mind, her fragile memories could be disastrous. Reawakening the hidden could spoil everything. But for some reason, they needed her thoughts. There's something in her brain that they saw as important. Perhaps it's for the best, if she has no idea who he is, what he's done, or where he's from. She could live a normal life, the kind of life that wouldn't involve him.

"Should I?" she asks again. Yes, she should know him. Very well.

"Yes." His voice is cold, damp. Grave.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't recognize you. Are you mistaking me for someone else?"

"No," he says with certainty. He knows her like the back of his hand. The impatient, growing crowd behind him bustles, customers growing angry due to their delayed service. "What time does your shift end?"

"Eight," she says, uncertain if she should tell this strange man this information.

"After eight," he says, "May I speak with you? Right outside of this restaurant door. At eight."

"That would be alright. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get back to work."

"I understand," he says with a nod, and leaves. He disappears like it's well practiced.

"Who was that?" a curious employee asks her, appearing at her side behind the counter.

"I... I don't know."

Eight o'clock strolled by lazily, taking its sweet time. That's good, it gave him time to think, time for his anger to stew and boil. They messed with her mind and stole from her, stole from them, what they had. They had no right, and he was not one to leave a score unsettled.

She carefully exits the pizza parlor, dusting off the remaining flour from her hands. She loosens her hair from the ponytail and sits on the nearby bench. The sky is dark and the lights advertising the pizza parlor reflect off of the pavement. It had rained recently and the black road was slick. Part of her is anxious to know what the man has to say to her, what is so important, but a part of her also never wants to meet him again. As she debates, he arrives, precisely at eight o'clock.

She stands and faces him. "So, who are you?" she says, trying to sound confident.

"I think the real question here, dear, is who are you?" He says the last three words slowly, pronouncing every syllable with care. His voice leaves an impression.

She hesitates answering. "What?"

"Do you mean to say that you don't know, that you don't know your own identity?"

"Of course I know who I am!" She defends herself.

"What's your name, then?"

His question stops her.

"I don't know." She can't answer.

"What was your favorite television show growing up?"

"I... I can't remember. That was ages ago. Nobody remembers that."

"What size of jeans do you wear?"

"What, are you stalking me now?"

"What's your preferred brand of shampoo?"

"Why do you need to know all this?

"Because you don't!" His voice escalates in volume, and she stops, her words sticking in her throat. She has no words to say. "Something happened to you that wiped your brain. So that all of the experiences, all the laughs, all the tears," he says, "are gone." He spreads his hands in the air, reenacting the memories dispersing and vanishing in an instant.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Okay, so what if I don't know my preferred brand of shampoo. I probably use whatever's cheapest, seeing that I work at a pitiful pizza parlor."

"How long have you been working there?"

"That isn't important."

"Ah, but it is. Because you don't remember," he pops the consonants.

"Whatever. I need to go home and get some sleep. This is exhausting me. When I return to work tomorrow, you'd better not be there, or... Or I'll call the police."

"One more question, dear, before you go. Then I'll leave you alone."

She sighs. "And what's that?"

"Where's home?"

She doesn't answer his question. She can't answer his question. She had been feeling lost, but didn't know why. But she now realizes, she doesn't have a home. There's simply nowhere to go. No safe place to go to and cry. She begins to doubt everything that she knows, every fragile building block of her life. But, the tower has fallen. Something larger than herself has knocked her down, and she needs to rebuild her life. And that mysterious man has something to do with it.

He probably knows who she is and what has happened, but for some reason he is withholding that information from her. He wants her to want him, so that she'll comply with him.

She turns away and starts walking, but she doesn't get very far because she has no destination. She doesn't want to look at him, him with the answers. What if he had erased her mind, but he wants her to think that it was someone else? He surely doesn't look evil, not at all. His mouth looks like it was made for smiling, and his eyes have permanent crinkles at the side. Pale freckles dot his otherwise plain face. Dark brown hair sits untamed on his head, his eyes the same wry color, sparkling with anticipation.

Footsteps sound behind her, but she doesn't look. She sees his shadow engulf hers, making one, larger shadow. She sniffs, making sure that her cheeks are dry.

"What am I supposed to do now, that I literally have no life?" she tries to smile, and a small chuckle comes from the man.

"I suppose that we try to recover your memories. Only if you want them back. Not all of them are pretty, I must say. However, you can't pick and choose between which memories to keep and which to toss, but I must say, that, in your case, the good heavily outweigh the bad."

"Really? You sound pretty certain."

"That's because I am. Most of my favorite memories, my fondest moments of my long life, contain you. And, if I am correct in saying so and I do think that I am, you'd have to agree."

That sounds really good to her. What kind of things did they experience, she wonders. She can't even begin to imagine, and she gets to live them all again.

"What would I... What would we have to do, to get my memories back?"

"Well, we'd have to find who took them. They might have some sort of trigger, like a set of dominoes that uncovers one memory and then the next and the next after that."

"How would we do that?"

"Honestly, I don't even know where to begin," he says, shrugging. "Come with me. There's something I need to show you." She follows him without even thinking, hugging her jacket close to her body. They walk for a few blocks and she struggles to keep up with his long strides.

He stops suddenly, in a seemingly random place. She almost runs into him.

"I suppose... We'll have to start where they left off," he says.

"And where would that be?" she asks.

"In the future. Where your last memory would have taken place. Where else would there be the technology to wipe memories?"

"Oh, silly me."

"Yes, you can be a very silly girl." He smiles, looking back at her fondly as if remembering a time when she was acting silly. He pulls a key out of his pocket, a very simple-looking, silver key.

"Wait," she says, looking up at the structure that they had stopped at. "This... This is a police box." She almost laughs out loud.

"You're right. Non-functional, though."

"Why are we going in a police box to go into the future, then? Where are all the gizmos and switches and flashing lights? That doesn't make very much sense."

"I prefer the term TARDIS. And, nothing makes sense. Not ever, not once in history do people or their decisions ever make sense."

"Right. Like why someone would want my memories, that doesn't make any sense."

"Well, that's a bit more clear. There was something there they wanted, and so they took it."

"And who would that be, some sort of monster out to get me? Lived under my bed?"

"You're actually quite close, dear. They're aliens."

"Of course. And, and what? You're their mortal enemy? With an undying hatred for each other?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"And who would that be? Who would hate you so much?"

"The Daleks," he says, very much like someone would state a fact. She got the feeling that it was, that it was just a fact to him.

"Another made up word! First the TARDIS, and now, now you're telling me there's such thing as a Dalek."

"I'm saddened that you think I'm lying."

"You're not lying, you've just gone mad. You've got this made up world in your head."

"Really, then? You should join me, and come see this world in my head."

"Yeah, that's rich. Oh, and, one more thing."

"What would that be?"

"Who are you?"

He laughs like she's a broken record, a question people ask over and over for decades. A question that can never really be answered, but still they wonder. "I'm the Doctor." He slides the key into the slot, and unlocks the blue telephone box. He pushes the door open, and extends a hand to her before he enters. She takes it, and joins him.


	2. Chapter 2

She joins him into the telephone box, and the interior takes her breath away. Instead of a normal police box, a console with a column was in the center of the room. "It's so much..." she says.

"Bigger?" the Doctor offers.

"Yeah." He laughs at her dazed response.

She walks around the console, gingerly tracing her fingers against the controls, careful not to flip any switches and send the ship rocketing into space. Her eyes are wide as she wanders around the room. "You wouldn't think that the inside would be so big. I expected a normal police box.

The Doctor laughs at her mouth stuck in an open _O_ shape. "If you think this room is big, then you should really see the others."

"There's more?" she asks.

"Loads more. Libraries, museums. I'll have to take you to the observatory to watch the stars spark out and die and witness planets and civilizations being born." She looks impressed, and that was precisely his goal. If their relationship was going to have to be rebuilt, it might as well start on the right foot. She still seems a bit uncomfortable in the TARDIS, she doesn't know much of anything at the moment. That's reasonable, she didn't even know why she was working at the pizza parlor, she just... Was.

"How can an observatory fit in a police box? Wait, let me guess. The inside's bigger than the outside?"

"Or the outside's smaller." The Doctor had a point.

She still had trouble figuring out why someone like the Doctor would even be bothering with her. She was an ordinary person, or so she had thought earlier. It was an ordinary Monday, the light stress of coming back from the weekend. But she didn't remember how she had spent her weekend, or how she had gotten to work. Once she was there, however, she remembered everything from then on.

She remembered the Doctor showing up. He was dressed differently than anyone else who had entered the building that morning. Everyone else was wearing work clothes, dashing off on a lunch break. There had been some exhausted mothers with pesky children hanging around like flies. There were some teenage boys skipping Biology class. But the Doctor was different. He had an obvious purpose. He had looked a bit dazed, but at the same time determined. She had felt unusually self-conscious when he walked in, like he was looking specifically for her. His posture was like that of a depressed, saddened man. She had noticed even more differences when he spoke; he had a British accent. She and her coworkers were American.

"Where do you want to go first?" he asks, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"I can travel most anywhere with the TARDIS, just ask and we can go. No parallel universes, though, those aren't very fun vacations." He grew noticeably more dismal at the last sentence.

"I wouldn't know where to go, if I had a place in mind," she says.

"Right. Well, I've been meaning to visit Barcelona again. Doesn't that sound amusing?"

"Why would you want to go to a city, when you could go anywhere in the world?"

"Barcelona, the planet," he corrects.

"That sounds interesting."

"It is. The pets there are outside of this world."

"Maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"No, never mind," she says, shaking her head.

"Speak up or we might never go there."

"Do you think we could visit France? I don't know what time period. exactly Maybe we could see some art, like Claude Monet's. I love his paintings."

"You do, do you?"  
"Yeah, he's an impressionist, right?"

"Yes, but did you notice what you said just there?" he asks.

"I don't know what you're referring to."

"What you just said, that you love his paintings."

"Yeah, I said that."

"You _love_ them. You formed an opinion, which means that-"

"That?"

"That you remember!" The Doctor laughs and throws his hands in the air, doing a small celebration. She remembered something. "France it is. Paris, France of 1926!" he cheers excitedly, pulling switches and studying one of the screens on the console. An orb in the column starts moving up and down in time with the shaking of the control room. She looks nervous as she can't find her balance. He looks over at her and gives a secretive smile. "You might want to hold on." She grabs onto one of the nearby, branch-like structures as the TARDIS leaves the parking lot.

Big signs with large typing line the building fronts, advertising hotels and restaurants. Noisy automobiles rumble past on the roads. Men donning black suits and ties stroll the streets, laughing and joking with each other. Ties are something that the Doctor was very familiar with.

The Doctor opens the door of police box, pulling it inwards, a familiar creak sounding from the hinges. He gives a nostalgic sigh as if the creak brings back a thousand memories, like's he's heard that sound time and time again.

"Did you hear about the Tree Frog by Opel? Newest automobile of the lot. Wife says we don't need them, the cars, that they're just a passing trend." one man standing on the street says, laughing to his friends.

She steps out of the booth, cautiously placing one foot after the other onto the street. "I can understand them," she says. "We're in Paris, right?"

"December first of 1926, that's right."

"Then they should be speaking French. But they're speaking English."

"No, they're speaking French. The TARDIS is just translating it all so you can understand it. It does that, a crafty little contraption," he says.

She peers out from the doors and watches the scenery in awe. The women about on the street walk confidently, smoking, wearing high heels. She evaluates her own attire, black slacks and a plain navy shirt, and feels out of place.

"You look fine," the Doctor says, as if he were reading her mind. She watches him watching the crowds, rich people riding in their new automobiles just because they can. "The war's over," he narrates the setting for her. "Women were left alone during the war, husbands and sons gone off to fight. They became freer individuals in their time of loneliness. They're demanding rights and are standing up for themselves, they're more confident, they're not as shy now. It's revolutionary. I never get tired of it, people changing and adapting."

"You've seen it?"

"Oh, yes. Over and over again. Especially that moment when people first discover fire. You're so happy for them that they discovered it, but at the same time you're so disappointed because it took so long."

"You... You watched that happen?"

"Yes, quite a while ago."

"Exactly how old are you, Doctor?"  
"Oh, I'd be about nine, fifty nowadays, I think."

"Nine _hundred?"_

"Sounds about right." She looks incredibly confused and in awe at the same time. "That's another story. I'll explain it to you later. Why are we here? Right. Claude Monet. He's further out, not directly in Paris."

They reappear at a house surrounded by gardens and farmland, a grand building with a white exterior. The TARDIS lands with its usual sound. The Doctor walks out and a young boy runs out to greet them. She follows him out.

"W-what's that?" the boy stutters, his jaw stuck open like a hinge that needs oiled.

"I've come to see your dad. Is he around?"

"He's been ill. The doctor declared him soon to be dead," the boy said sadly, looking down at his shoes.

"Poor Oscar. Well, I'm pretty sure that he'll make an exception for me, I'm the best doctor around." He pulls out his wallet and flashes some physic paper in the lad's direction. "I'm Dr. John Smith, and this is my colleague. Would you escort us to see him?"

"_Oui oui, monsieur,_" the boy says, and runs up the stairs at the foot of his house, leading the two. They follow him into the expansive parlor. They pass a black, gleaming grand piano that seems to have been abandoned, dust gathering on the ebony keys. Some of Monet's painting are hung in the hallways. She stops to look at them, the expressive, pastel brushstrokes tell as much of a story as the actual picture. "This way," the boy instructs.

The Doctor opens the door that the boy stands next to. Coughing is heard from beyond the other side of the wall. He turns to face her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She nods, and they enter.

"Father, this is John Smith. He says he is a far better doctor than the previous one you've seen." A shadow is seen behind a four-poster bed as a man sits up in bed.

"Thank you, son. Would you please bring our guests some refreshments?" His French accent is thick and aged with stressed syllables.

"Could you open the curtains?" he addresses his company, pointing to some white curtains on the other side of the room. She eagerly gets up and pulls them apart, and he squints in the sudden sunlight.

The Doctor pulls a stool out for himself and she sits by him. "I'm John Smith, and you are Claude Monet?"

"That is correct, but you may call me Oscar. Not many know me by that name, just by my work. Claude Monet, the painter."

"I love your work," she interjects, perhaps a bit too excitedly, and an apologetic looks covers her face. His son comes in with the refreshments and sets them down gingerly on a carved wooden table. The Doctor takes a long drink of water.

"Many do, but I fear that when I die I will fade into the crowd of all the artists moving to Paris, seeking inspiration and fame." Monet sighs, tired of the overwhelming newcomers.

"You don't, Your work doesn't," she says.

"How can you know this?"

She stops herself from revealing too much, about being from the future. "I just know. You are remembered fondly by the art world."

He smiles, almost, through his bushy, white beard. He seems assured. He peers out of the window, focusing on something outside. "What is that blue box doing in my garden?"

"Oh, it's just my... Box," the Doctor tells him.

"Whatever is in it?"

"Just... Other boxes. I quite like them. They're very boxy, you know?"

"Peculiar. Very peculiar. The odd ornaments on the panels, it would make a very interesting piece. Once I am relieved of best rest, I think I shall paint it." The artist smiles. "Now, I hate to be a rude host, but I am feeling tired."

"I understand completely," the Doctor says and stands to leave, beckoning her to come with him. They exit and return to the phone box.

"Does he, does he paint the TARDIS? I don't remember that being one of his paintings, and wouldn't that mess with time? These types of police boxes weren't around yet."

"Don't worry. He doesn't."

She looks over at him. "What do you mean?"

"He dies in four days because of lung cancer." The Doctor starts up the engine and gets the machine ready for travel. He says it with no expression in his voice.

"He... Dies?"

"Well, I hate to come off as uncivil, but everything dies. Everything has its time and everything must fade. That's just the way of things."

The ship takes off and lands back where it was before, in a damp alley on a dead end street. Nothing has changed since they left, but she feels a bit sadder. She remains quiet and doesn't speak until they both exit the phone box.

"This is where I leave you, I guess," the Doctor says. "I'm not going to force you to come with me, I never do. I'll give you some time to think about it and make up your mind, if you'd want t become my companion and travel with me. Give up your ordinary life to see the universe. I could come back later and see what you decide."

"But where would I go inbetween? I don't know who I am or where I belong, or even where I live."

"Does that mean you've made up your mind?"

"To travel with you. Why would I want to choose anything else?"

"That's the spirit," he smiles, his face lighting up again. He points out his elbow to her, and she links arms with him It was just like the old times, he thinks. When they had each other memorized and could predict how they would respond. She seems different now, like she's just out of place and isn't comfortable anywhere. They enter the TARDIS together, smiling, hand in hand, just like it's always been. The dials spin and the lights turn on, and the phone box leaves. Out of sight.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where are we going?" she asks as he putters under the TARDIS console. She's not sure if he heard her, his sonic screwdriver fixing the machinery.

He pulls his head back up from beneath the floorboards. "Once I get this going again, I'm trying to get us to the last moment I remember you having your memories."

"Where would that be?"

"2056. September, I believe. September 19."

"What were we doing there?"

"I wanted to show you this new invention that you had wondered about previously. Like a backwards microwave, where it can cool down your food in a manner of seconds instead of heating it up. To be honest, I'm surprised that the humans hadn't invented it earlier. A microfreeze, how cheeky."

She laughs at him. "Why does it seem that the TARDIS is always broken somehow, Doctor?"

"Hmm?" he asks for verification.

"Well, you know, you're always tinkering in the mechanics. It's like you break it just to fix it." He smiles at her small memory revival, acknowledging but not announcing it.

A small, tapping clink sound comes from down in the engine. "There we go. And we're off!" The time machine rhythmically sways into time and space, its familiar call comforting to her. When they land, the machine seems to sigh, taking a rest from traveling.

The Doctor steps out of the door. "Remember any of this? A continental, North American mall. One of the smaller ones, I must say. Two miles wide, not very impressive."

"Two _miles?" _she repeats, a little dazed. "A shop is two miles wide."

"The microfreeze booth should be somewhere over here. We never actually got to it, though. You were so distracted by everything else. The slim-stick phones, flat cars. There's a device that comes out in a few months that lets you browse the Internet with your mind. Tricky stuff."

The time machine was parked in an abandoned booth that once advertised a subscription to carry Wi-Fi with you wherever you went. The lights were off, and some were shattered even. No one was going to bother the TARDIS.

They maneuvered through the swarms of people. The Doctor strolls confidently through the crowd, only just remembering about her. She is so lost, completely alien to her surroundings. "Come on, now. Don't want to lose you again," he says, taking her hand. She gratefully holds on his hand as he gives her a reassuring squeeze.

They arrive at the microfreeze booth, the demonstrator's voice booming and his clothes a radioactive neon green. "That one thing I don't like about this time period. The clothes are absolutely blinding. They're hideous."

But, she's not paying attention. Her focus has drifted off to a conversation taking place behind her, between a scared brother and sister.

"Why do we have to eat the protein bars again? They taste awful. Why can't we eat at a nicer place, like that restaurant from Raxacaricofallapatorious that Zed was telling me about at school the other day?" the brother, probably younger, asks.

"It costs too much, I've told you." The elder sister sounds exhausted.

"When will Mum and Dad get home, then? They could go to work and make more money, and then we could eat."

"That's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Please stop asking me all of these questions, Wick."

"They probably got swept up."

"Swept up? What does that mean?"

"A kid at school said that there were too many people on the earth so the government goes around sweeping people up to get rid of them. That they're recycling people," his voice is dismal.

"That isn't real. That's just a rumor. The disappearing people are not being _swept up._"

"Doctor," she whispers into his ear, shaking his shoulder to get his attention. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"People are disappearing. That girl just said so, that girl with her brother. They haven't seen their parents in ages."

"Well, I suppose it's time to start asking questions." He puts on his glasses and strolls toward the two children. He pulls out his physic paper. "I'm John Smith, and this is my associate. We'd like for you to give us some answers on the people disappearing."

"I'm sorry, sir. We need to go," she says and starts pulling on her brother's arm to walk away.

"Your parents raised you well. Not talking to strangers." The girl stiffens, her posture becoming more defensive. "But what if these strangers could help?" She turns back around. "When did this first start happening?"

"My friend's mum first disappeared three weeks go, and her dad went searching for her the next day, and neither of them came back. Both our parents disappeared not two weeks ago, no signs of that they were going anywhere," she tells him.

"Interesting," the Doctor says, pacing in the gap between two shops.

"What was your brother saying about people being swept up?" his associate asks.

"That's just a rumor-"

"What was he saying?"

"That there are too many people on the planet now or something, and people are being recycled to make space."

The Doctor rejoins in the conversation. "That not right. It doesn't add up. Humans may commit genocide, but not random killings. No, people aren't doing this." He looks at the siblings. "Thank you for your information." He then looks back over at her. "Come on." He leads her to a back alley where there are posters with peoples' faces on them, saying how long ago since they went missing and what they were wearing at the time.

He points among the posters. "These people, what do they all have in common?"

She studies the signs, trying to figure out what he has. "There all in a certain age group. Looks like twenty-two to thirty-five, give or take a few years."

"That's right. And why would people in this age span be needed in numerous amounts?" he asks her. She shakes her head, not knowing. "A work force. They're all the right age to do labor."

"But for what?"

"I don't know, quite yet." He kneels back down in front of the signs. "Cyber Street. Most of these people were last seen near Cyber Street. Let's search around there, ask the locals."

They travel on a bus, walking from one side of the mall to the other could take all day. The whole trip, the Doctor seems disgusted to travel in such a public way. They reach Cyber Street, and he exits the vehicle as quickly as possible. They happen across a passerby, and older woman, and he approaches her.

"What can you tell me about the missing people, being swept up?" he asks.

She seems uneager to speak to him. "I haven't done anything! Leave me alone!" She menacingly waves her walking cane at him.

"I didn't say you were the culprit, I just asked what you know. I'm trying to help."

The woman takes a deep breath and glances around. "The victims just seem to show up here. They don't know why they're here, but then they leave as soon as they came. Down that way." She points toward the opposite, darker end of the street with a shaking finger. The Doctor follows the direction her fingers points, and his companion struggles to catch up with him.

"Doctor, are you sure we should go in there?" she asks him timidly.

"No," he looks at her. "You go back to the TARDIS, and I'll go."

She shakes her head stubbornly. "I'm going with you." She takes his hand, and they continue towards the abandoned factory.

They come up to the solid steel doors. "We can't get in," she says, examining the structure.

"Nothing a little sonic can't do," he smiles and gets his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. A faint buzz comes from the glowing tip as the door falls with a loud crash. They enter the factory cautiously, and jump back when a shadow is seen. The Doctor pulls her behind an abandoned. They peer through the machinery.

"Seriously, who does he think he is? He just can't treat me like that, like some disobedient child." A young girl walks in through the fallen door, her footsteps growing louder.

"Is that..." his companion asks. "Me?"

"Yes, when you still had all of your memories," he says, perhaps a bit coldly.

"Then where are you?"

"You really have lost your mind, haven't you? You got mad at me and walked off, to cool down, I suppose. And I guess that this is where you went." The duplicate-girl walks up some stairs. She looks around, nervous, as if expecting someone to follow her. She looks as if she hopes someone will, like she wants someone to come and find her and take her home. An apology is almost written on her face.

Her shoes make a tapping sound every time she steps on the next stair. The Doctor creeps up behind her, careful not to alert himself.

"Why don't we just stop her now? Or I guess, stop me?"

"That would create a paradox. If we were to stop you now, then there would be no reason for us to come back here in the future and stop you. We can only observe at the moment."

She continues around the corner, nervously walking up the steps. The floor soon levels out and she enters the top room. He speeds up, only to be stopped by a shut door. A gasp is heard, and an eerily familiar voice. "Exterminate!" a robotic sound says.

The Doctor steps away from the door quickly as if it were on fire.

"What's that?" she asks him.

"The Daleks. They're here." His suspicions were confirmed that they had stolen her memories. He presses his ear against the door again.

"Exterminate!"

"No! Please, don't exterminate me. Doctor! Doctor, where are you?" She turns around from inside of the rooms and struggles to open the door, but it's sealed shut. She pounds on the door as the Daleks get closer, chanting.

"You know the Doctor?" one asks.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"You are his companion?"

"Yeah, I-" Her voice is no longer heard as they take her away. The Doctor turns and faces the hallway.

"Here I come. We have to hide. Now." The staircase was blocked at both ends, the other Doctor approaching at one end and a sealed door at the other. He uses his screwdriver and opens the door, buzzing as the locks melts, and shoves it open with his shoulder. He takes her hand and pulls her into a nearby closet with him as the other him opens the door. Broken machinery digs into her back as she peers out of the door. He watches the ship fly away, her palms hitting the windows in the ship as the Daleks leave with her.

"Karen!" he cries out. "I'm comi-" He stops short when something comes hurtling at his head, making him fall to the floor. A piece of the spaceship had flown off and connected with his forehead. She goes to him, running out of the closet, and kneels at his side.

"It's all right," she says to him. "I'm here." She gingerly touches the red spot on his head.

"He can't hear you. Rather, I can't," the conscious Doctor says.

"I know. It's just makes me feel better, I guess, that someone checked up on him. Made sure he was alright. You'd do the same, right?"

"I 'pose so," he says and kind of meanders away. He studies the sky, there being no roof on this room, a sort of landing pad on the top floor.

"When you, the first time 'round, came after me, you said something," she walks over to him and looks him in the eye with a questioning look on her face. "You called out my name."

"That I did." He tries to avoid answering by turning away.

"You said... 'Karen.' Is that my name, Karen?" She moves around to see his face again.

He sighs. "Yes."

She seems sort of relieved, that some part of her has been found again. She has an identity now, although broken still. Her back hurts from the machinery in the closet digging into her back, so she goes back to investigate.

"Karen, come on. Come out of the closet. We need to go back to the TARDIS."

She gives him a look while she drags the equipment out. Something about the odd, tangled, broken parts awakens a memory of hers. Some of the metal was vaguely shaped as a face with a round, bulbous nose and a sad smile. She remembers the Doctor and her, holding hands and laughing until their sides hurt. She remember them kissing, an odd scene to her, in a crowd of people who weren't paying any attention,

She turns to him. "Doctor," she asks quietly. "Why are you so, I don't know, serious? You don't ever laugh."

He pushes his hands into his pockets and looks off somewhere. "Now's not the time for telling stories, sad ones at that. Come along, we need to get back." He starts walking off and stops at the door frame, holding out his elbow to her. She catches up and loops his arm in hers, and they walk away from Cyber Street and back to the TARDIS.


	4. Chapter 4

The strange-looking TARDIS console has always intrigued Karen as she runs her fingertips across the dials. She doesn't understand how they work, when the Doctor uses them it seems like he's just making stuff up. She sighs as she watches him pace, hand brushing the rails as his coat flaps behind him. His hair is messier than it was earlier. He can't stay still as he struggles to come up with a plan.

"Doctor," she asks, sitting down and swinging her feet beneath her. "What was the story, the one you said we didn't have time for?"

He slows his pacing and looks at her, dazed a bit. "Nothing. Nevermind that."

"Are you sure?"

He halts completely. He sighs through his nose. "It's... It's a bit complicated."

"I'm smart enough, right? That's why you travel with me." He hesitantly agrees and sits by her, thinking of how to begin his story.

"You and I... We were traveling, and you came up with the\is idea to visit a circus. I used to laugh a lot, or so you'd say. I'd been a bit too sad recently for your liking, and you insisted that we go have a laugh. I complied, and we visited a carnival in year 2060."

"2060? We were just in 2056, at Cyber Street. Was the circus near there?"

He stops to think about that. "Now that you mention it, it was."

"Cyber Street's been a popular place for us lately, it seems."

"You're right." What could that mean? "Anyways... Hold up, I've got an idea." The Doctor didn't really feel like explaining what happened at the circus. He places the pads of his index fingers on the sides of her temple, and concentrates his mind on hers. The Time Lord trick works, and he is now able to access the memory again, and he projects it into her mind like a film.

_Her arm is linked with his as her quick pace pulls him along. Laughing, they trot jovially down the paven path. Some of the tiles are cracked and jut up above the rest of the road, and she loses her balance. He steadies her arm._

_"__You alright?" he asks, and she nods in reply. "The mall's been destroyed, I wonder why. Nothing but ruins now."_

_"__Maybe that's why the circus is there. To bring some laughter to such a drab place," she wonders out loud. Some small booths dot the sides of the street, the smells of sweet treats wafting out from under the cloth roofs. Banners lace across the road, reds and yellows advertising fun. They come across an old telephone pole with a new poster stapled to it. She plucks it off and reads it._

_"__New fun at the Circuit Circus! Laugh 'til you die, the fun never stops! Now featuring the Dolezens, the next big thing in the entertainment world! Tickets only six and a half credits per adult, four for children under twelve," she reads._

_"__Sounds alright," the Doctor nods and they continue on to the location the poster says. They pay at the booth and sit down in the stadium. With much pleading on her part, he buys her a little souvenir, a fan with sixteen air-filtering fans. She laughs at the contraption and presses the button, but no air comes. He takes the fan and uses his sonic screwdriver to get it working again. Before she can say her thanks, something on the device blips._

_"__Hold up," he says and flicks the screwdriver._

_"__What's wrong?" she asks, desperate for something to go right at least once in her travels with the Doctor._

_"__Says there's alien activity around here."_

_She sighs and lets her head drop back. "Not again," she mutters._

_"__Though, it could just be a malfunction," he concludes and slips the screwdriver back into his coat pocket. He sensed her irritation and wanted to just have a good time, but the screwdriver's reading bugged him._

_A very short man wearing a very tall hat strolls out into the center of the tent, and the audience applauses at his appearance. He wears a thick, curly mustache as he speaks into an unseen microphone. "Welcome, ladies, gentlemen, foreigns and space dwellers! We have something very exciting for you all, our special guests can't wait to perform for you, but you'll have to stick around for that. May I present to you now, Lizent, the Web Woman!"_

_A small, petite lady tiptoes out into the arena and the crowd laughs at her looks. She seems timid and meek until she starts spinning. On her toes, she whirls, bouncing off of two parallel poles in the arena that are about as thick of five of her. Lizent hops from one onto the other, a golden strand connecting from where she just left. Some of the crowd gasps as more threads follow in her footsteps. Her image grows blurrier and blurrier as her speed increases. She lands on the ground with a finality and waits for the crowd's reaction. Between the two poles was the image of a man traced by golden line. A man in the crowd stand up and shouts loudly. "Oi! That's me!" The crowd claps accordingly as she makes her leave._

_The Doctor leans into Karen's ear. "Nothing new. Reminds me of a lady I met once, just had spools covered in tree sap attached to the back of her feet."_

_"__Ruin it for me, why don't you," she replies sarcastically. More acts come out, each one making the audience laugh more and more, building up intensity. Animal perform mundane tricks and short people make fools of themselves._

_The small man comes out again. "And now, for our last presentation." The crowd boos at this. "Now, now, come down. This is the best yet, what you've all been waiting for. Please welcome..." He stops to build up the dramatic effect. "The Dolezens!"_

_The audience claps and whistles uproariously. About a half dozens creatures step out, some waving or tossing out treats. She leans forward in her seat to get a better view. Just about everyone eats one of the treats being handed out, Karen eating one. The Doctor studies his screwdriver, the readings being off the chart._

_The Dolezens seem harmless, their big, red, clown noses bobbing as they walk. One notable thing about them was their mouths, forever cast in a doleful frown. They just mosey around, falling down and stumbling, sad, but for some odd reason, the crowd can't get enough of it. Including Karen, everyone is laughing uncontrollably._

_"__I don't see what's so funny," the Doctor says to her, but she doesn't pay him any mind. He shakes her shoulder. "Karen, why is everyone laughing?"_

_She looks at him as if she heard something but couldn't figure out where the sound came from. She continues to clap as she wipes a tear away from her eye. He points his screwdriver at the Dolezens as the device alerts him of alien presence. He stands up and watches them, and the leader gets a nervous look in his eye and starts to retreat. The Doctor gets up and starts to make his way through the stadium._

_"__Doctor?" Karen says. "Sit back down, enjoy the show. Aren't they so cute?" He couldn't see anything enjoyable about them, their eternal gloom forever painted on their pained faces. He continues ambling down the rows of seats, pushing some people aside. They don't even notice him, they're too busy laughing at the fumbling Dolezens. Something clicks in the Doctor's mind. He thinks back to when she read the poster out loud. 'Laugh 'til you die...'_

_"__Stop it!" he yells, now at the base of the stadium. "Everyone, stop laughing! You need to go home, now!" The sound doesn't even seem to dull at all, but the Doctor is not easily discouraged. He feels obliged to save these people. He looks around the creatures and singles out the one who seems to be the leader, who staggers around with more of a purpose._

_"__You there," he says, pointing at it. An alarmed look appears on the Dolezen's face as it struggles to find its footing. It slips away, streaking out of the tent. The Doctor runs after it and pins it against a trailer. "What do you want with these people? Why are you doing this? Answer me!" All he could think of was Karen and his inability to stop her._

_The Dolezen waves its hands in a universal surrender. It can't speak, but it seems to understand the Doctor. "Tell me," he pleads again, his voice more forgiving now. The creature bops away, and his frustration builds again until he comes back with a rolled up map in his hands. It leads him out far past the circus, a good half mile to a pile of junk. It was similar to the jumbled machinery that the Doctor would later find in the closet at the factory on Cyber Street. A jumbled, crude image of a Dolezen._

_"__Is this your ship?" the Doctor asks and the creature nods. "You crashed here, at the mall. Where did you come from?" It spreads the map out on the ground and points to an upper right-hand cluster of dots. "The Deplorable Sector," the Doctor concludes. "Everyone there, you all suffer from sadness, am I right? Extreme, incurable cases of sadness? So why here? Why Earth?"_

_The Dolezen makes an attempt with its mouth to curl the corners upward with no prevail, trying to tell him something._

_"__You want to laugh. You want to be happy. But what are you doing to these people? They're dying..." He thinks. "They're dying in there! You're killing them! How many people have you killed in your quest for happiness? Hundreds? Thousands? And now Karen's going to die with them!" He lowers his escalating voice. "You've got to stop this. Now."_

_They run back to the circus, and some of the audience has already passed out. He skims the crowd quickly and sees Karen, still laughing, but only just. He turns to the Dolezen. "How do we reverse this?"_

_The creature shrugs._

_"__Agh! Think, think, think! What makes them laugh?" He snaps his fingers. "Ah ha! The little treats you handed out! Something in that, combined with the Dolezens' performance, makes people laugh. Can you stop the performance?"_

_The Dolezen stumbles out to the arena and tugs on the others arms. They slap it away, and the crowd pauses at the violence. While the crowd was distracted, the Doctor tries to usher the citizens out, only succeeding with a few._

_"__Keep going!" he shouts. "Do something unfunny!"_

_The Dolezen seems to think. It runs back out and gets a hose that was used to wash the animals off with. It sprays it at the other Dolezens, and they quickly become angered at it. It runs away and the rest of them chase him out. The crowd, dissatisfied, leaves. Karen is left and the Doctor runs up to her._

_"__Are you alright?" he asks, cradling her hands in his._

_"__Yeah, I'm fine. My head..." She reaches up to touch her temple. "Oh, I'm tired."_

_"__Lay down a bit. I'll be right back." He goes back to where the crumpled spaceship was and finds all six of the creatures. "I've got a proposition for you," he says and they pay attention. "If I fix your ship, you can't ever come back to Earth or drain people's laughter. Do you understand me?"_

_They solemnly nod and stand back as the Doctor uses his screwdriver to repair the internal machinery of the shuttle. The body still remained dented. "The rest is up to you," he says, and returns to Karen, who was feeling much better. She heavily leaned on him as they walked back to the TARDIS._

_"__I never did like clowns," she says, once sitting down and drinking some water. "They give me the creeps."_

_The Doctor smiles, a faint, sad, grave smile, as he silently makes the decision to not laugh as frivolously as he used to, as not to lose the one he loves._

He removes his fingers from her forehead as she balances herself on her seat, groggy from reliving the moment. They remain silent as they look into each others' eyes with an undeniable understanding.


	5. Chapter 5

Her mind is bustling, whirring with hundreds of questions to ask the Doctor, but she keeps quiet for his sanity. He's going mad trying to think of ways to recover her memories. She wants to help in someway.

"Is all this really necessary?" she asks, breaking the silence.

"Pardon?" He looks up from deep thought.

"I don't know. It's like... Why bother? Can't we forget about my forgotten memories and just make new ones? Or you could do that Time Lord trick, where I relived the circus scene with you? Go back and 're-see' everything."

"That was different," he says, brushing the idea away, resuming his thoughts.

"How?"

"You saw the scene how I saw it, not from your own observations. My opinions and thoughts were also there, merged in with everything. You didn't draw your own conclusions on what happened."

"What's wrong with your opinion?"

"Nothing, I say. I just like my companions to think for themselves, that's all. They give different perspectives."

"What am I like? To travel with, I mean. Am I annoying, or helpful, do you enjoy my company...?" she asks.

He looks at her. "Of course I enjoy your company. I'd let you know, otherwise." He looks off, thinking. "You're witty, often sarcastic, I'm at the receiving end of your jokes. You make me laugh all the same. You always get the job done and don't ever leave anything untucked. Kind of a neat freak, in that perspective. You mess with my bow tie and I really don't like that. It has to be just so for you." He looks over at her again and she smiles hearing his review.

"What kind of relationship did we have, Doctor?"

"A very strong relationship. We were, are, I hope, close." He seems to try to avoid the subject.

She nods.

"Why all these questions, all of a sudden?"

"I don't know. I was just wondering. I remember seeing this poster a while back, that said something among the lines of that you've never seen your own face in real life, in person. Just in pictures or reflections. The same thing with meeting yourself. Wouldn't it be neat to meet yourself, Doctor?"

"No," he replies gravely, shaking his head.

"Oh," she says quietly, and doesn't talk for a while. "Why not?"

"Oh, a paradox, two TARDISes in one area, two Doctors, different regenerations. That could be messy."

She leaves the console room, to leave the Doctor alone to think. She'd never thought about that before; if she was a pest or a joy to be around. Wouldn't it be so much easier if people would just tell you flat out what they thought of you?

Karen wanders around the TARDIS, the insides seeming to expand more and more upon exploration. She comes across some old, abandoned, empty rooms, that sat growing dust. She wonders what memories some of these ancient rooms must hold, some of which might have included her. She enters the library, a magnificent, daunting room where books from all eras were lined up in front of her, advertising the wonders inside. Her breath catches in her throat as she stands in the middle of the room.

"Fantastic, isn't it?" the Doctor asks, coming up alongside her.

"Yeah," she says.

They stroll along the rows, and he points out several authors he has met or saved. "Shakespeare, what a guy. Oi! Charlie, ol' Charles Dickens, he was a hoot. Saved him and all of London from the Gaelf."

"Who did you travel with back then? I can't imagine you would do this all alone," she asks, curious.

He sighs as if remembering hurts too much. "Martha, and Rose. I was different then. Loads different. You could say that... I was a different person, even."

She nods, understanding. She wasn't jealous, the Doctor is a great man who draws too much attention to himself. She couldn't expect him to travel alone, there must have been others before her. "Where are they now, Rose?"

He looks away. "Gone." He never gives a straight answer to her, and that irritates her. Why can't he tell her his past without feeling guilty or judged?

"Karen," he says to her without looking directly at her. "We need to go somewhere, right now. Pick a place, any place, let's just travel."

"Umm..." She looks around the library and sees a faded painting. "What's this of?" she asks, pointing.

"A national forest in Sweden. Abandoned in the future. A bit nippy in the winter, but no one is ever around, the way I like it." He rushes back off to the console and sets the TARDIS to travel there. The whole ship trembles as they leave.

Snow falls lightly as Karen steps out from the doors. Thick patches of rich, green trees cover the bare land. As he exits the vehicle, he can't help wonder if the snow is really ash. He watches as she tries to catch the falling frozen water molecules in her mouth, her youth and innocence, but no one really knows what she's done. The Doctor doesn't know, and neither does she.

The crystals crack under his feet as they head into the forest, his hand on his sonic screwdriver in case anything happens. The atmosphere is calm, for once, and he can be at peace.

Karen walks around, gasping at rabbit and deer tracks and even spots a far off moose. They laugh at the silliest things but have the best time.

They stay for about six hours, and Karen does her best to procrastinate leaving. "Do we have to leave already? We've only just arrived!"

"It's been at least a half dozen," he says.

"Since when does time control you?" she argues. But when they arrive back at the TARDIS, something is wrong.

The Doctor stops moving and examines the sky.

"What is it, Doctor?" she asks with a concerned look on her face.

"Wait here," is all he says as he walks off in the opposite direction, leaving her. She tries to enter the ship but the door is locked and she has no key. She struggles to remain calm as an unexplainable fear fills her, but nothing is approaching. Something just seems off.

She pulls at the doors again as a hooded figure appears at her right. She gasps and staggers back as the figure approaches.

"I suppose you're looking for... This?" it asks, pulling a silver chain out of a dark pocket, tossing it to Karen. She catches it and places it in the key hole almost immediately.

"What, no thanks?" the stranger asks, laughing. Something about its voice seems familiar.

"Thanks," Karen says rashly as she starts to unlock the door.

"Please. If I wanted to hurt you, you'd already be dead. But if I did that, I'd just be killing myself."

"What do you mean?" Karen asks, uncertain if she wants to know.

The figure grows closer and removes its hood.

"No," Karen says, shaking her head.

"Yes," it says. It's her. The hooded figure looks just like Karen, but it isn't. "Yes, I am you," she says, the other her. "I am you, but unlike you, I still have my memories. I know what happened to them, and how to get them back."

"I don't want them back."

"No? That's surprising."

"Is it? If you're me and all... How are you here?"

"I time traveled, from the past to send you a message in the future. You won't remember this side of the conversation, only the one you're hearing just now. You have no idea of what I've done and how it'll haunt you."

"How did you travel, then, if you're not with the Doctor?"

"I left him. And so should you."

"Never."

"How did I know you would say that?" the Karen from the past laughs. "Oh, wait, I'm you."

"Nevermind that. How did you know where I would be?"

"That faded, old painting? I hung it up, I placed it there. I knew the Doctor would be trying to recover your memories, and need a break, and that you'd want to go to the library, and, _walla!_, inspiration."

"But _why ? _What's your message? Why go to all this trouble?"

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. Just a friendly reminder."

"And what's that?"

"To remind you what's at stake."

"Wha-" Karen begins to say, the present Karen, but the other her left. Simply... Vanished. She turns around to see where she went, and she sees the Doctor walking back. She notices that the other Karen didn't leave any footprints in the light layer of snow.

"What are you still doing out in the cold? Couldn't get inside the TARDIS?" He shows her his key. "Two teeth up. You'll have to jiggle it a little to get it in properly. Not as smooth as it could be." She places the chain she got around her neck and it seems to fall into place at her throat. The cold metal is sharp against her skin.

He leans his head back out of the door, extending a hand to her. "You are coming, aren't you?" he asks. She takes his hand as he tells her that he thought he saw some rare rodent, but it was simply a squirrel with some old mops stuck to its fur, but she wasn't really paying attention. The other Karen, she thinks, was so cold and bitter. She wonders why she had such distaste for the Doctor, after all he's shown her, gave her a glimpse of his life. Who would want to hurt him so?


	6. Chapter 6

Think back to Cyber Street, to the brother and sister lost and confused in the market place. People had been going missing, and that fact had been bugging the Doctor ever since he left them there. He wonders why he hadn't stopped then to help. Ignoring their obvious plea was very unlike him. She's been distracting him too much, swaying his behavior.

"I'm going out," he announces, sliding his coat over his shoulders as he heads towards the door.

"What do you mean, out?" Karen asks, coming out from her room, a book open in her hands. Her feet are covered in socks as she walks toward him.

He gestures to the door. "Out. You stay in the TARDIS, and I won't be gone long."

"I understand that you will be walking out the door and going and doing something outside, but what? I need more nouns."

He shakes his head. "No. You don't." She stands up to follow. "You're in your freaking pajamas. It's settled. No cuts, no buts, no coconuts. You're staying. I'm leaving." He opens and walks out of the door.

She leans out of the doorway. "Do great!" she calls out to him, before closing and locking the door and returning to her room to continue reading.

Outside, the Doctor sighs and breaths in the air, and then slightly gags. The air is cloudy and gray with vehicle exhaustion. It wasn't long after the time that they had left previously, where they had previously talked to the children the first time. It wasn't hard to find them apart from the crowd. Most people walk by quickly, rushing through the crowd with an obvious destination. They move along slow, not caring if their shoulders were rammed into and shoved aside. Their backs were slumped with the absence of hope.

The Doctor slides through the crowd with remarkable ease, catching up with the two kids. "Hey, you two. Where have you been, I've been looking all over for you. Come on, let's go eat somewhere." He leads them to the closest booth, and he orders and pays for three meals.

"Why are you doing this?" the sister asks.

"You're welcome," he says, ignoring her question. "I'm the Doctor, and you are?"

"I'm Wick," the brother says, not stopping to eat.

"Wick!" she scolds The Doctor laughs as he eats his own taco.

"What's your sister's name," he asks Wick, knowing that she won't say herself.

"Lundie," he says, licking his fingers.

"I don't know what you think of me, but all I want to do is help you, but I can't do that without you first helping me. First, we need to eat. I'm starved, and I supposed that you are, too."

After eating, Lundie seemed more open to talking to the Doctor. "People have just been disappearing lately, and no one seems to know why. There are no possible common factors, but I haven't really been able to investigate, well, because..."

"Your brother. You've been taking care of him. That's a very important thing to do. No common factors, you say?" the Doctor asks?

"None that I'm aware of."

"I've heard that they've all gone missing near the same location. Cyber Street."

"Cyber Street? I stay away from there, it's kind of creepy, that old factory. There are always noises coming from it."

"Noises like?"

"Machinery, scraping metal. Electronic, cold, steel voices."

"Right," the Doctor says, throwing his garbage away. He squats down and looks the two children in the eyes. "Now, I can't guarantee that I can find your parents, but I can promise to you that I'll try." They nod their thanks, and he leaves right after.

**Now, I'm sorry, I don't know how to finish it off from here. I've written the ending, and I'll post it, but I haven't touched this story for four months, so I'm done writing it.**

**I'll add the ending as Chapter 7 and 8.**


	7. Chapter 7

in which she explains her betrayal

"Karen?" he asks the Dalek who was leading him down a hall. "My Karen? How, why? She couldn't have done all this." The Dalek pushes him into the room where she sat across from him, so far away. He tries to run to her, but the restraints around him ankles and wrists make him fall to the ground. "You didn't do all of this, did you? You couldn't have. Tell me, Karen. Tell me it isn't so."

She turns toward him, trying to think of the words to say. Her hesitation was her reply.

"You did? How... Did you set this up? This; the Daleks and the capture. Why?"

"I was tired of constantly having to rely on you, Doctor. I wanted to do something without your help, and prove to you that I'm not helpless."

"I don't think that-"

"But you do! I know you do. That way you look at me, like I'm a poor, kicked puppy that you need to shelter. But I don't. I don't need you."

"Karen, please-"

"I'm still talking. I was so mad at you, how you scolded me. You made me feel so stupid. I took a walk near Cyber Street to cool down, and then the Daleks found and captured me. Locked me in that factory, they did. Top floor. But you didn't come after me."

"I tried, but I couldn't find you. I tried, and I never stopped trying."

"They knew that I was associated with you, that I would know how you would react. They wanted to exterminate you, same old story, life-long enemy. They thought of this grand scheme, they had the Doctor's companion captive, when is he coming after her? When did he come after her, hmm?"

"I never stopped searching," he tries to add as she continues her tale.

"He didn't. Her heart grew cold as she waited. She was tired of being overlooked and unappreciated. The Daleks valued her knowledge, her way of thinking. So, convinced she wasn't important to him, she told them all about the Doctor."

"You are very important to me. How could you think otherwise? After all we've been through-"

"Why not, she wondered. Soon after telling them, she felt guilty for some reason, she still felt an attachment to the Doctor. She came up with a new plan, a small addition, and begged them to listen to her. She had them erase her memories so she wouldn't have to live with the guilt, and had them place her in a pizza parlor. While she still had her knowledge, she set up a scheme. She told them that the Doctor would most likely want to go visit the last place that they were. That he would observe the events at Cyber Street again."

"You set this up? All of it?"

"Even the old lady. Told her if she ever met a man of your description to lead him to the abandoned factory."

"The brother and sister. Were they fake?"

"No. They were a flaw in the plans."

"Then why go to all of this trouble?"

"Because you left me! You didn't care, so I decided that I didn't care what happened to you."

"But after the Daleks left with you, they knocked me unconscious. You can't blame me for not going after you. I did. But you must care, somewhere in you. You haven't become a Dalek inside, no, not yet. Not completely. When we went back and observed the events at Cyber Street, you ran to the unconscious me. The me that was hurt, you felt the need to make sure that I was alright. Now how can you stand there and tell me that you don't care?"

"I didn't remember that I don't care."

"Right. That's it."

"Don't mock me! I was hurt and lost, with no hand to hold. The Daleks valued me in a way."

"They didn't value you. They used you to get me, and you let that happen. You sided with them to kill me. I thought you loved me!"

"Shut up!"

"Stop telling the truth?"

"After they left, the Daleks waited. They didn't really leave. They blended in with the rest of the sky, just to confirm that you couldn't come after me. They left a sign out on Cyber Street, for when we would go back a second time, a sign that triggered one particular memory."

"Which one was that?"

"At the carnival. When you kissed me."

"Why that one?"

"To remind me what was at stake," she says coldly, looking away.

Karen leaves to the other side of the room. She sits on the floor, leaning against the wall. The Doctor watches her, all the happiness gone from her. She was, in many ways, like a Dalek now, heartless and void of love. He couldn't make sense of it all. He had thought that she loved him, that they could travel together until she grew old. They could have gone through the ancient Time Lord courting rituals, serving each other tea in the orange afternoon sky. He could have told her about being on the run from pig aliens on the moon. He could have told her about his mother's awful cooking. Told her about the time he was stuck without the TARDIS, only his timey-wimey detector. Told her the Gallifraein bedtime tales. He could have told her everything. So many "could haves."

The Daleks' slaves drag the Doctor away, his feet scraping against the ground as he protested. He struggled with every unit of energy he had in his body to get away, to somehow to make this all right again. He calls out her name, each sound paining her again and again. She was only able to look up again when she heard the door close with a finality.

"Put him in Chamber 16. Set target lock on the Dural Black Hole," the head Dalek commands to his inferiors over a radio in its body. "Set timer for five minutes." The words are like a cold bucket of water splashed on her face. During the planning, nothing felt real up until now. She knew it before, she hadn't realized it yet. She's killed the Doctor. She sent him to die, to his death sentence.

"Please. Stop. You can't do this," she pleads to the Daleks.

"The Doctor is here. You placed him at our feet and now is our time to exterminate him. We had a deal," one of the Daleks says.

"No! You can't. Please, listen to me. Let us go. I don't want this anymore."

"She is a threat to the Doctor's execution. We must exterminate her."

"No!" She falls to her knees, crying. They point their whisk-limbs at her.

"Stop," the leader Dalek says, and the others halt. "Let her die with the Doctor. Let him look his betrayer in the face." She is pushed into a chamber, a secure door closing behind her. She heard every gear lock into place, sealing the room from the rest of the ship. There's a small window that she pounds her fist on, even though she knows that it's no use.

She can hear the Doctor's staggered breaths behind her but she can't look at him. Not after what she's done. The clock over the intercom announces that the time set is now over, and the capsule bursts forward with great power. The realization settles in as she watches the space station's image grows smaller and smaller. She's killed the Doctor, and herself along with it.


	8. Chapter 8

**So, I think this is basically a redo of the last chapter? Thanks for sticking with me!**

He pulls at the binding chains with all of the power he has, leaning as far away from the pillar as he could get. She scratches at the door, whimpering, her fingernails not even denting the metal door. She slides down the wall and cries. She then notices the Doctor, the hopeless desperation in his face. She had sold him out and had gotten herself doomed, too. She doesn't even care what happens to herself now. Nothing was worth losing the Doctor for.

"Karen," he says, his voice reaching across the confinement area. She doesn't want to listen to him. How can he even stand her? "Karen, please. Please." He calls her name over and over, each time like a pin piercing her heart. She squeezes her eyes shut to keep the tears from rushing out. "Karen."

She looks over at him, and it pains her deeply to do so. Even after what she did, he still reaches out to her as best as he can, handcuffs around his wrists and ankles. She walks over to him, the journey seeming like it takes forever, her feet heavy with dread. Her shoulder feel weighed down with all the regret in the world. She sinks to her knees in front of him so that she can look directly into his face. He collapses, exhausted. She struggles to take deep breaths, her rapid heartbeat pressing against her skin. His face points downward, and she cups his head with her hand. He presses his face into her palm as she runs her fingers through his hair. She strokes the strands tucked behind his ear and fixes the part.

She would speak, if she knew what to say, if she could conjure words to properly sum up her emotions. They are both going to die, and she accepts that. She would much rather die herself than the Doctor. She feels terrible for putting him in this position. She has basically murdered him, like sending a calf out to slaughter.

"It's not your fault," he whispers in a tired voice. She makes a sound that could be recognized as a laugh, a laugh filled with pain, trying to avoid deflect the truth. Again, even after all this time, he still find a place in her heart to forgive her.

"How can you even say that? I told the Daleks where you were and how they could get you, the perfect way to make you weak and vulnerable." Her voice is failing and unsteady, ready to crack at any second. "I'm terrible. I did this to you."

He straightens and places his face close to hers. She wonders if he could feel her heart breaking, being that close to her. She stares straight into his eyes, feeling his sincerity. His breaths float on her face and tickle her. Their lips find each other as they gingerly fit together. Tears flow freely from her eyes, falling off the tip of her nose.

"It's going to be alright," he tells her after they pull apart.

"How? We're left here. This space pod is heading straight towards a black hole, and there's no way we can change course."

"Is there ultimately no hope?" he asks, the lilt in his voice suggesting an alternative plan, a spark of hope. With his face, he gestures toward a dark corner to the right. "Go over there. There a jail cell."

"Do you want me to lock myself in there?"

"Just trust me. Do you still have your TARDIS key?"

"Yeah, but I don't see-"

"Seriously, Karen. Just listen to me for once. I know what I'm talking about. Go over there and unlock that jail cell with your key." She looks at him funny but obeys. The keys fits, surprising her. The doors swings open to reveal the console of the TARDIS.

Her face lights up. "How-"

"I repaired the chameleon circuit before we traveled back here. I figured it might come in handy. Now, go in there and get my sonic screwdriver. It should be right on top of the console." She dashes in and retrieves the tool.

Heading back over to him, she presses the button and breaks the handcuffs open. As soon as his hands are free, he embraces her. His arms hold her close. More emotion is expressed in that action than words could ever explain.

He stands up and straightens his coat. "How do we get off here, now? Will the TARDIS work?" she asks him.

"The Dalek power throws her off, an opposing force. We need a jump start. A herculean force with an undeniable power..." His words linger off as he looks out the window. He walks over to it and studies the space outside, pressing his hand on the glass. "The black hole."

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"All that power, _sucking_ away space and matter, must come from somewhere, right? If I could transfer that power from the black hole to the TARDIS, then we should be off. If I could channel the energy, or siphon it back to the TARDIS somehow, just for a jump start."

She looks at him. "I don't see how that could work, Doctor. Couldn't that be dangerous?"

"And that's exactly why you're staying here."

"What? No!" she cries out and grabs on to his arm. "You can't."

"What do you mean, I can't? I can, and you can't. I'm far more qualified than you."

"But... But you'll die."

He sighs thoughtfully, heavily. A hard decision is being work through in his brain. "I'll be back for you, Karen."

"No." She shakes her head. "I won't let you."

"I was afraid you'd say that." He leads her into the TARDIS, and attaches a chain from the console to her wrist. "Now you can't stop me."

She jerks her hand, trying to escape her bonds. "No, Doctor, you can't. Don't go, please." Her pleads are painful for him to hear and he avoids looking at her.

"If I don't charter that energy, then you'll die," he says.

"I don't care! Please!"

"I'll be back," he voice softens as he prepares himself. "I promise, Karen. I'll come back for you. I always will." He can't avoid a teardrop that slides down his face as he walks away, trying to not hear her cries and protests. Throughout the window the pod gets closer and closer towards the black hole. He takes hold of a nearby pipe and thrusts it through the window, air being squeezed out of the capsule instantly. He breathes in deeply through the pipe, the energy surging through his veins as he struggles to make it back into the TARDIS, the door latching shut behind him. The energy buzzes through the air. Through exhaling, he pumps the energy out of his lungs and into the machinery, and the orb starts pumping up and down. The engine starts turning on. He collapses on the ground, his body already fried and rendered useless from the black hole's vigor.

She yanks on her restraints again. "Doctor." She falls to the floor and presses her hand to his chest. He has only one, slowing heartbeat, getting fainter with every pulse. "Doctor, please." She cradles his head in her lap.

A weak smile covers his face. "See? I told you, I told you and you didn't believe me. I said that I'd come back to you, and see? I was right."

"But you're dying."

"And you're living. That's perfectly wonderful to me."

"You're not making any sense, Doctor."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Don't cry, Karen. I'll be back." She brushes the tears off her face hastily.

"Don't say that. That can't be true. You're going to die, like you said. Everything has its time and everything must die. And it's all my fault that you have to die." Her fingertips carefully trace the features in his face, wiping away tears. What would happen to the world now, no Doctor to patch the wounds or to fix the fabric of time?

"It's going to be alright."

"Just stop it. Please." Everything would collapse.

He looks up into her eyes. The pain in his chest is immense, but it was nothing but a dull throb when he thought of her. He had saved her. For once things went right. For once things went as he had planned. The pain on her face wasn't planned, though. He knows what is going to happen. He raises his already weak voice. "Could you give me a few minutes?"

She nods and leaves the control room, finding her way into the library. On her first time on the ship, after having her memory wiped, he had brought her to the library. The vast collection of books were what had impressed her the most, not the time traveling or incomprehensible knowledge. She looks at the painting of the Swedish forest, a decoration she's planted so that things would go according to her plan. To go back and give herself the TARDIS key. She looks fondly over at the two chairs and coffee table where they had once sat, a book left propped open to a page. It was a Charles Dickens book. The inside cover was signed; _To the Doctor, a mysterious bloke with a mysterious past._ She remembers when he told her that he had met him, and that he had saved Dickens' life once. He was so happy looking then, before she had betrayed him, even though he was so lonely. The Doctor was only lonely. He was dying now, as she thought through all of this. The Doctor would become nothing more than a faint memory, just a grain of sand in the universe's beach.

The sound of footsteps appear behind her and she looks back over at the door. A man wearing tattered clothes, her Doctor's clothes, strolls in, unable to walk balanced.

"Still figuring out my footing," he laughs. "See, Karen? I told you, didn't I? Promised I'd come back."

_the end...?_


End file.
